Magical Mistletoe
by jessiy
Summary: Hermione gets caught under mistletoe in the dead of night only to be found by Head Boy Tom Riddle. Now a two-shot.
1. Chapter 1

**Magical Mistletoe**

Hermione flew through the deserted corridors, cursing her focused nature where time was inconsequential. She had stayed in the library later than usual trying to squeeze the last three hundred words on the scroll for her potions essay due in a matter of days.

The lights of the library had dimmed around her and she quickly packed up, only then noticing that she had missed curfew by a half hour. It was then that she picked up her speed, zooming through secret passages and short cuts, wishing fervently that she had thought to bring the Marauder's map with her when she came back in time. But alas, she had to make do with silencing charms and notice-me-nots to get to Gryffindor tower unnoticed.

Hermione careened around a corner on the fourth floor, when she flew into an invisible wall. She looked above her head in horror as the innocent looking mistletoe held her in it's magical grasp until she was kissed. Only then would she be released. Hermione groaned and slumped against the stone wall, sliding down its face until she was seated on the floor. It was past curfew, and few knew of the secret passage she had taken to speed up her trip back to her common room. Likely, she would be there until well after morning.

Morbidly, she wondered if anyone would find her at all. It's not like she made any friends here yet, having only been in 1943 for two weeks. Her mission had been simple, travel back to the year Riddle made his first Horcrux and stop him by any means necessary. The plan was that she would infiltrate the Snake Pit and integrate herself into Riddle's inner circle, but things didn't play out the way they were supposed to.

The first problem was the damn meddling Sorting Hat. It refused to sort her into Slytherin, despite her asking for it, which is what Dumbledore had advised her to do. The hat claimed that although she had many of the prerequisite qualities, she was definitely a Gryffindor and it would be a travesty to the hat's position to knowingly sort a child wrong. Hermione thought for several long moments about setting the hat on fire after he sorted her into Gryffindor but abstained, knowing that the hat was on Hogwarts side ultimately.

Hermione laid her head on her raised knees and wrapped her arms around them. Closing her eyes, and remembering all the crap she went through to get here, she groaned. Instead of drawing Tom Riddle's interest like she anticipated, he ignored her. That is, he was kind to her, helpful, exactly like he was with everyone else. He never watched her covertly from afar, or tried to approach her, or even tried to compete with her in class. All the things she had imagined he would do, things that Dumbledore assured her that he would do, never came to pass.

"Well, well, well, what have we here?"

Speak of the devil, Hermione thought, head whipping in his direction, and internally groaning. This was not what she imagined their first private meeting would be like, him with all the power.

"Tom Riddle," She said, and stood up feeling too vulnerable on the floor at his feet. Even still, he had nearly a foot on her and was able to look down at her haughtily.

"A lone Gryffindor out after curfew… how unexpected," He sneered moving closer. "and it is just my luck that it is the one and only interesting Gryffindor of the bunch."

"I had no idea you thought I was interesting," Hermione muttered defiantly, wondering if he was just screwing with her mind. Up until this moment, she wondered if he had noticed her at all. Not even did he appear interested when she, a transfer student, was sorted along with the first years.

He walked languidly, stopping only when he reached the boundary of the mistletoe.

"Then you are not as intelligent as I thought you were,"

Hermione fumed.

"Not all of us are so accomplished at deceit, Riddle."

"That's right, you couldn't hide your true intentions if you tired. I could tell from the moment you walked into the school that I was most interesting to you. And why would that be, I wondered to myself. Perhaps it was my handsome face that you were drawn to like so many other girls before you. But I dismissed that within a few hours of meeting you. You were repulsed by me and it was painfully obvious. So obvious that people walked up to me in the halls, asking me what I had done to you, for you to dislike me so much. I am not easily embarrassed, Hermione, but you managed it in one day. The teachers watched me closer after that and I could read in their minds the doubt despite my stellar reputation up until that point. The main thing that stood against me was the lack of my having consorts over the years.

After that I endeavored to keep my distance, to ignore you and your impressive scores, brilliant leaps of logic, advanced magic, and wickedly fast dueling skills. I used my network of spies and drank up every story and anecdote relating to you, the new girl who astonishingly knew parts of the castle that others did not.

You were the talk of the common room. The one Gryffindor who was nice to the Slytherin's and who stuck up for the young ones."

With one last step, he was within the magic of the mistletoe and stuck, just as she was.

"What are you doing," Hermione asked, fear coiling in her stomach at the look of thoughtful consideration that transformed his face.

"I am going to kiss you, unless, you would like to be trapped here with me until someone else finds you. But, there is no telling how long that will be. Besides, it looks like we are both stuck here now."

"This is a terrible idea!"

"Why? Every other girl in this castle would die to be in your shoes."

"That is because they are stupid. I see right through your good guy act. I know what you do with your 'friends' every Saturday night in the Forbidden Forest."

He moved closer, trapping her against the wall, placing a hand on the stones on either side of her head. Leaning in, he tried to capture her gaze, but Hermione stubbornly refused, occluding to the best of her ability. She was terrified, always terrified, that it wouldn't be enough. She felt vulnerable and open as if looking her in the eye was unnecessary for him to read her mind and was only a convincing show. He must already know that she was from the future. She was sure of it.

He chuckled wickedly, running the tip of his nose down her neck, breathing her in. Hermione shook with fear. Wondering wildly if he was venomous and a single bite would kill her. Feeling his tongue in place of his nose made her flinch and she could feel him smirk against her skin, exhaling warmly on her chilled skin.

"What do you want from me?" He whispered in her ear before sucking her lobe into his mouth.

"You know," Hermione choked trying to act as if the whole thing didn't bother her. Immediately she forced herself to tramp down on the traitorous feelings of desire that were licking up and down her body. "the magic will only release us with a kiss on the lips. This is quite unnecessary,"

Tom snorted. "I like you like this, completely at my mercy. Who knows when another such opportunity will come along."

"Riddle," She warned breathlessly, unconsciously running her fingers in his black silky hair.

"I will make a deal with you," He murmured as he once again kissed his way down her neck. "Give yourself to me, just this once, and I will answer one question, any question."

"Any question?" Hermione lit up with all the possibilities and tried to hide her excitement. Of course, there was only one question that she was interested in at the moment. "I need your magical oath that I can ask any question, and not only will you answer it honestly, but you will let me walk away after. I want your vow that I will never be threatened by you or another by proxy."

"I vow that I will answer one question honestly and will not seek retribution on my own or through others because of the question at the price of giving yourself to me for one night."

Golden magical lines enveloped him, binding him to his word. Hermione gritted her teeth, wishing desperately that he quoted her verbatim, ensuring her protection from him and his Death Eaters for the whole of her life. She knew he was brilliant and a Slytherin, and there was no way he would have given her a blanket amnesty. Didn't hurt anything to try. She gulped, just realizing exactly what she agreed to.

His fingers were at the buttons of her robes, undoing them deftly, baring the uniform she wore beneath. In moments they were pushed from her shoulders to pool at their feet, her tie landing on top soon after. Every inch of skin he uncovered was lavished with attention from his mouth and Hermione was drowning in the sensations. It was amazing to her that such an evil person was so adept at drawing out her pleasure. He seemed to know every single place on her body that screamed for his touch. She was burning, drowning and all she could concentrate on was what his mouth was doing.

This was one thing that she was never, ever going to report back to Dumbledore. Once she returned to her own time, she had no intention of letting anyone know that not only did she sleep with Voldemort, but she liked it as well.

Hermione threw her head back against the wall as he pinched one of her nipples through the pretty lace demi she was wearing. One of the many that Fleur had packed for her before she came back in time. Hermione had been chagrined that first night in the castle as she laid out the clothing that Fleur provided when Hermione was being prepped for her backwards jump. Everything was lacy and tight and just not her. She suspected Dumbledore did this on purpose, wondering if the real reason he sent her was not because she was the cleverest witch of her age but because Riddle would be attracted to both her mind and body. Dumbledore must have wanted her to seduce him. That manipulative bastard.

Lightly Riddle bit her nipple through the lace, letting his hands trail under her skirt, cupping her arse, and slightly spread her cheeks.

"Sexy," He murmured as his tongue left a wet trail from her soaked bra, down her navel, and into the hem of her skirt. Hermione gasped, as he flipped her skirt up, baring the matching sheer knickers to his hungry gaze. He leaned in close, pressing his nose into her mons, teasing the engorged button near her core.

"Oh!" she whimpered as his fingers teased her through the material before hooking them at her sides and pulling them down her legs. He looked at her neatly trimmed mons for a moment before smirking,

"Is this for me?" he asked with a smile, looking up at her with his impossibly dark eyes as she continued to avoid them.

"No!" she denied and blushed and felt his warm breath as he softly chuckled against her thighs.

"A girl doesn't just clean up down here for no reason. Were you here on purpose, waiting for me to take pity on the new girl stuck under magical mistletoe in the dead of night?" he clicked his tongue as if he were disappointed in her, but his amusement was palpable.

"Pchah! I would never," Hermione denied vehemently. In fact, it was a hair removal spell that Ginny and Hermione tried over the summer. It was supposed to leave her bare and would need to be reapplied every few weeks, but something went terribly wrong, and she was stuck with the short strip of hair in the center of her mons permanently.

He kissed the crease where her thigh met her groin and ran his hands up her legs again, this time pushing her legs apart, to feast upon her center. His tongue licked a path from her pussy to her clit, using the tip of his tongue to drive her mad. It felt like lightning streaking up her spine. Her fingers fisted his hair.

"Ah!"

"That's right, scream sweetheart, no one will hear you." He murmured against her slick center.

Two fingers sunk into her pussy and she endeavored to strangle them with her inner muscles as he brought her closer and closer to climax with his mouth. She began to shake, she was so close, when he sucked the small nub into his mouth. Hermione shattered, pressing his face closer into her body.

"Oh fuck," She whispered, body still trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm.

"What a naughty mouth," Tom Riddle said as he stood, making sure to rub his fully aroused body against hers, all the way up.

He grabbed her thigh and wrapped it around his hips before unbuttoning his trousers. Taking himself in hand, he rubbed the tip of his erection against her sensitive clit.

"Tom," Hermione begged, holding onto his shoulders for dear life.

With his free hand, he grabbed her thigh and guided himself into her slick heat, sinking to the hilt. He grimaced, trying to control himself, his eyes closed, and Hermione wondered if anyone else had seen him thus, so out of control. Her eyes were glued to his face as he moved within her, thrusting hard into her welcoming body.

"Mmmm," he sighed. His thrusts grew erratic the closer he came to his own release. "Yesssss,"

He ground into her, pumping his seed deep in her womb, dropping his head on her shoulder as he panted. He rested there for a moment and Hermione dared not move for fear of having to face the reality of what they had just done.

Within minutes, he was pulling out of her, his wand in his hand, cleaning both of them up.

"Your question?" He asked looking up and meeting her eyes for the first time. Her mind was frazzled and was replaying their encounter over and over, unbelieving the lengths she had gone to. She cleared her throat and looked away, hoping he could only see what she wanted him to see, knowing her defenses were quite low at the moment.

"Have you made your first Horcrux yet?" She asked.

His deeply indrawn breath showed her how unsettled her question made him.

"How?"

"Answer,"

"No, I haven't. How do you know I was planning on making one? Not even my closest _friends_ know of that."

"Don't make any. If you do…" She stopped. If she told him why he shouldn't make any, he would know that she was a time traveler. Telling him how she knew, was not even an option. He moved close, hands back on her hips, body pressed flush against hers again.

"If I do, what, Hermione?" He muttered into her ear, low, dangerous. She shivered, instantly thrown back to his lips on her skin.

"If you do," She breathed, fear and need warring in her body. "if you do, you will die."

He laughed. "I think not!" He pushed away from her smiling, tucking himself back into his trousers and buttoning up his oxford.

"Fine," She snapped. "Don't believe me! What do I know anyway? Release me from this stupid mistletoe."

He cupped her face and tilted her face up and chuckled when she wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Perhaps you are worth listening to, time traveler," he murmured before capturing her lips, using his tongue to tease them apart and sweep in. He tasted like smoke and tea and her. And she was powerless beneath those lips as he deepened the kiss. Her heart was beating a million times a minute as she tried to stifle the fear of what he would do to her now, knowing that she was a time traveler.

His lips left hers and she lifted a hand to her own, knowing she looked thoroughly shagged.

"What are you going to do to me?" she whispered.

"Do to you?" He asked walking backwards away from her, smiling broadly. "I'm not going to _do_ anything to hurt you. What I want from you…" he trailed off and paused. "Good night, Hermione."

Seconds later he was gone, having turned the corner.

Hermione stood dazed for a moment more before bolting up to Gryffindor Tower. Tomorrow. Tomorrow she would think about what happened. But tonight, she would replay the encounter over and over. She would allow herself only this night to bask in the unlikely chemistry she seemed to share with Tom Riddle. No one had to know, Right?!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you for all the wonderful reviews! I never intended this to be a full story but since nearly everyone asked for a continuance… here is a second chapter. Magical Mistletoe from Tom Riddle's point of view. I am writing a multi-chapter fic similar to this called The Lies of Good and Evil written in Tom Riddle's POV.**

 **Magical Mistletoe Tom's POV**

Tom sat on the black leather couch in the Slytherin common room surrounded by sycophants, women, and those that believed they were his peers. An outsiders point of view would have sworn that Tom Riddle, Head Boy, was riveted by the company and conversation around him but the truth of the matter was that he was bored.

Ever since _she_ arrived, he was gone, head full of the conundrum that she presented and that was before he figured out one of her many life-changing secrets. Hermione Granger was a time traveler and she wasn't in this time by accident. Albus Dumbledore was the puppeteer pulling her strings and she danced like the good little soldier to the light that she thought she was. And he was going to be the one to turn her.

News of her in classes reached his interested ears. He never asked of her, nor inquired about her achievements but she was all the student body seemed to talk about. She was beautiful, talented, and could be quite vicious when provoked. Her dueling skills outstripped everyone, and he suspected that only he would match her. She could very well be his near equal. He couldn't allow such brilliance to stand with Dumbledore against him and his plans for the future of the wizarding world. Weeks ago, his plan had begun to form but the only kink had come at the beginning of the school year when she made sure the whole school knew her disdain for him, sinking his pristine reputation in a matter of days.

That would not be allowed to stand.

"Sir," Mulciber murmured from where he kneeled in front of him.

"Hm?" Tom asked distractedly, ideas of what he really wanted to do to her running through his brain. Visions of her wild hair tumbling over his pillow and her creamy thighs parted in invitation.

"Granger is still in the library. She doesn't seem to know that it is past curfew."

Tom smiled. "Thank you Mulciber, you are dismissed."

"Thank you, Sir,"

Tom waved him away and stood, adjusting his clothes so that he looked perfect. Tonight was the night that he was going to find out a few things about Hermione Granger.

It didn't take him long to get to the entrance to the library and he let out silent snort when he noticed that she was still elbow-deep in an essay. He leaned against the wall and hit the top of his head with the handle of his wand and winced as the feel of egg whites slipped over his body.

Nearly a half hour passed before she jumped out of her seat in a panic and she began to shove everything into her already overflowing bag. He nearly exploded when she dropped a quill and bent to retrieve it. Her robes had been discarded, draped over the back of her chair and her skirt was shorter than he was used to seeing.

Even shorter when she bent over…Just. Like. That. Merlin!

Biting his bottom lip, he moaned in anticipation and appreciation. No girl had ever turned his head the way she did. In fact, he never was interested in another person before her and if he didn't know better he could believe that she dosed him with a love potion. But he did know better. The antidote that he had been taking daily attested to the unlikely scenario of Hermione Granger dosing him with Amortentia. Although, she wouldn't be the first to try.

She raced past him, running pell-mell down the halls and he followed at a more refined pace. Only going fast enough to keep her turns in his line of sight. It was a stroke of pure luck that she was trapped beneath a sprig of magical mistletoe. Or was it? He smirked to himself.

He took several moments to catch his breath, cancel his disillusionment, before stepping out of the shadows. Still, she hadn't noticed him, but he was fine with that for the moment. It would be more beneficial to him if he walked up to her under the guise of Head Boy duties, immediately turning her into a rule breaker whose immediate future rested in his hands. He was the one with the power.

This wasn't the first time that Hermione had been caught in a part of the castle that only veteran students knew about and he marveled that she must know the castle of her time nearly as well as he knew it now. It was just another example of how well they were matched.

"Well, well, well, what have we here?" He said while keeping his face devoid of emotion. She was scowling at him, throwing poisonous daggers with her angry, enchanting eyes.

"Tom Riddle," She said, and he watched as she stood up. Her robes were barely buttoned, and the long line of her leg was bare as she pushed off the floor, skirt hiked up to her hip. His mouth watered, needy for a taste of her skin.

"A lone Gryffindor out after curfew… how unexpected," He muttered, tightly controlled. It wouldn't do to show her how much that she was affecting him. Not yet, anyway. "and it is just my luck that it is the one and only interesting Gryffindor of the bunch."

"I had no idea you thought I was interesting," Hermione muttered defiantly, glaring at him as if he were just an errant child in need of discipline. He tried to catch her eye, wondering what she was thinking about, and failing miserably. It was flattering and ego boosting to know that she was a time traveler and obviously knew of his talents. Avoiding eye contact, was she? Fine. He couldn't wait until she slipped up and allowed him entrance.

He strolled languidly, stopping only when he reached the boundary of the mistletoe.

"Then you are not as intelligent as I thought you were," Adrenaline pumped through his body as she turned furious. He enjoyed the way her sweet face morphed into something vicious and concise as she thought of possible retributions.

"Not all of us are so accomplished at deceit, Riddle."

"That's right, you couldn't hide your true intentions if you tried. I could tell from the moment you walked into the school that I was most interesting to you. And why would that be, I wondered to myself. Perhaps it was my handsome face that you were drawn to like so many other girls before you. But I dismissed that within a few hours of meeting you. You were repulsed by me and it was painfully obvious. So obvious that people walked up to me in the halls, asking me what I had done to you, for you to dislike me so much. I am not easily embarrassed, Hermione, but you managed it in one day. The teachers watched me closer after that and I could read in their minds the doubt despite my stellar reputation up until that point. The main thing that stood against me was the lack of my having consorts over the years.

After that I endeavored to keep my distance, to ignore you and your impressive scores, brilliant leaps of logic, advanced magic, and wickedly fast dueling skills. I used my network of spies and drank up every story and anecdote relating to you, the new girl who astonishingly knew parts of the castle that others did not.

You were the talk of the common room. The one Gryffindor who was nice to the Slytherin's and who stuck up for the young ones."

With one last step, he was within the magic of the mistletoe and stuck, just as she was.

"What are you doing," Hermione asked, and Tom studied her, moving closer as her red parted lips called to him. He wanted to kiss her. Everywhere. And he wanted to run his hands all over her body, followed closely by his tongue. He would do what he had to do, say what he had to say, promise what was needed, to bury himself deep inside her. He didn't want to leave until he had sampled the delicious wares of Hermione Granger. He was hard as a rock and she was to blame.

"I am going to kiss you, unless, you would like to be trapped here with me until someone else finds you. But, there is no telling how long that will be. Besides, it looks like we are both stuck here now."

"This is a terrible idea!"

"Why? Every other girl in this castle would die to be in your shoes." True. But he knew that she would not be one of those girls from the very beginning. That might have been part of her allure.

"That is because they are stupid. I see right through your good guy act. I know what you do with your 'friends' every Saturday night in the Forbidden Forest." True and True. She wasn't very subtle at hiding or trying to wrangle an invitation to his band of coveted knights. He thoroughly enjoyed watching her try to insinuate herself next to him.

He moved closer, trapping her against the wall, placing a hand on the stones on either side of her head. Leaning in, he tried to capture her gaze again, but Hermione stubbornly refused. He could tell that she was trying to occlude. It wouldn't be enough to keep him out, he was sure. Only Dumbledore managed that feat.

He chuckled wickedly, enjoying her attempt. He wanted to possess her, fill her, claim her as his own. She was already his, she just didn't know it yet. There was no way he was letting such a prize slip through his fingers. And what an amazing addition to his followers she would be. He ran the tip of his nose down her neck, breathing her in. She smelled like feminine arousal and flowers and something else that he could only define as magic. Using his tongue in place of his nose made her flinch and he smirked, exhaling warmly on her pimpled skin. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her. The only difference was that he knew what he wanted and would get it by any means necessary. She was clearly still in denial.

There must be something she wanted from him, something that would make her want to give herself to him. He suspected she just needed a reason to go along with it. After all, her arousal was definitely not faked.

"What do you want from me?" He whispered in her ear before sucking her lobe into his mouth. He closed his eyes in rapture as she shivered against him and he nibbled lightly on the lobe.

"You know," Hermione choked trying to act as if the whole thing didn't bother her. But he knew better. Like he thought earlier, she just needed to let herself have a reason. "the magic will only release us with a kiss on the lips. This is quite unnecessary,"

Tom snorted. "I like you like this, completely at my mercy. Who knows when another such opportunity will come along." Another truth. He was going mad with want of having her under his body.

"Riddle," She warned breathlessly, unconsciously running her fingers through his black silky hair. He nearly groaned then as her nails gently raked across his scalp. No one was allowed to touch his perfectly styled hair, but he might make an exception in the future, for her.

"I will make a deal with you," He murmured as he once again kissed his way down her neck. She was a time traveler who knew all about him and his abilities. If he was a betting man, he would bet that her little sojourn to the past had everything to do with him. It that was so, he would soon find out, depending on the question she asked. "Give yourself to me, just this once, and I will answer one question, any question."

"Any question?" Hermione lit up and failed to hide her excitement. He knew it. "I need your magical oath that I can ask any question, and not only will you answer it honestly, but you will let me walk away after. I want your vow that I will never be threatened by you or another by proxy." She murmured, and he kept his face even and calm. She really knew him, the real him, even the parts that he continued to keep hidden from his followers. She was perfect. Made for him. Or sculpted by Albus Dumbledore. None the less, he would take the gift of this woman and twist her until she was as desperate for him as he was for her. She was clever, he gave her that. Trying to outwit him with a blanket amnesty. Such tactics were refreshing and for the first time ever he felt as if he found himself on equal ground with another person. She was truly his match.

"I vow that I will answer one question honestly and will not seek retribution on my own or through others because of the question at the price of giving yourself to me for one night."

Golden magical lines enveloped him, binding him to his word. It was obvious that she had indeed been hoping for that vow of amnesty that would keep her safe from him, but she was too late for that. Much too late. And it seemed the only person who didn't already know, was Hermione... and the rest of the student body, but they were inconsequential. She gulped, and her breath caught. He could tell that she just realized what she had agreed to.

His fingers were at the buttons of her robes, undoing them deftly, baring the uniform she wore beneath. In moments they were pushed from her shoulders to pool at their feet, her tie landing on top soon after. Every inch of skin he uncovered was lavished with attention from his mouth and she trembled beneath his lips. It was delicious, her skin, her reactions, her mind shutting down unwillingly under his ministrations. He caressed her with his tongue, savoring the tang of magic that clung to her. It reminded him of the taint of Dark Magic and he wondered if she had been as naughty in her endeavors as he hoped. She tasted delicious.

Hermione threw her head back against the wall as he pinched one of her nipples through the pretty lace bra she was wearing. He was surprised when he stripped her down to her knickers and found enticing breasts clad in the most delicate French lace. It was a juxtaposition, and he assumed that this set was not something that she picked out at all. Indicating, once again, that she was handpicked and sent back just for him. Delicious.

Lightly, Riddle bit her nipple through the lace, letting his hands trail under her skirt, cupping her arse, and slightly spread her cheeks. Her arse was firm and well-rounded and fit perfectly in his hands.

"Sexy," He murmured as his tongue left a wet trail from her soaked bra, down her navel, and into the hem of her skirt. Hermione gasped, as he flipped her skirt up, baring the matching sheer knickers to his hungry gaze. He leaned in close, pressing his nose into her mons, teasing the engorged button near her core, smelling the overwhelming aroma or sex and magic. It was heady to him. Hermione couldn't have smelled better if she bought the most expensive and well-cultivated perfume in the world. Nothing turned him on like powerful magic.

"Oh!" she whimpered as his fingers teased her through the material before hooking them at her sides and pulling them down her legs. He looked at her neatly trimmed mons for a moment before smirking,

"Is this for me?" he asked with a smile, looking up at her with his impossibly dark eyes as she continued to avoid them. Excitement thrummed through his body. He was wound so tight that it wouldn't take much for him to snap.

"No!" she denied and blushed and felt his warm breath as he softly chuckled against her thighs. He didn't believe her. She was chosen for him. She was prepared for him. This was just another layer of proof.

"A girl doesn't just clean up down here for no reason. Were you here on purpose, waiting for me to take pity on the new girl stuck under magical mistletoe in the dead of night?" he clicked his tongue as if he were disappointed in her, but his amusement was palpable. They both knew it.

"Pchah! I would never," Hermione denied vehemently. Tom didn't believe her. Not for one moment.

He kissed the crease where her thigh met her groin and ran his hands up her legs again, this time pushing her legs apart, to feast upon her center. His tongue licked a path from her pussy to her clit, using the tip of his tongue to drive her mad. Her fingers fisted his hair and the pain of it focused him, allowed him to hold off orgasming in his pants like a virgin schoolboy.

"Ah!"

"That's right, scream sweetheart, no one will hear you." He murmured against her slick center. He liked that too, the thought that he could do anything to her, that she was entirely at his mercy.

Two of his long fingers sank into her pussy and she endeavored to strangle them with her inner muscles as he brought her closer and closer to climax with his mouth. When she began to shake, he sucked the small engorged nub into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue. Hermione shattered and pressed his face closer to her body. He would gladly die from suffocating in her greedy quim.

"Oh fuck," She whispered, body still trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm.

"What a naughty mouth," Tom Riddle said as he stood, making sure to rub his fully aroused body against hers, all the way up. He liked that with him, she wasn't as straight-laced as she pretended to be in front of the rest of the students and teachers. He wanted to hear her say fuck again. Wanted to force it from her tightly controlled demeanor.

He grabbed her thigh and wrapped it around his hips before unbuttoning his trousers. Taking himself in hand, he rubbed the tip of his erection against her sensitive clit. She was so wet, he glided easily over her folds and within moments his cock was coated in the proof of her arousal for him. She couldn't fake this.

"Tom," Hermione begged, holding onto his shoulders for dear life. He basked in his triumph. There would be nothing else but him on her mind for a very long time. He was counting on it.

With his free hand, he grabbed her thigh and guided himself into her slick heat, sinking to the hilt. He grimaced, trying to control himself, his eyes closed. Her pussy was magnificent, a perfect fit, strangling his steel erection. He could feel her eyes glued to his face as he moved within her, thrusting hard into her welcoming body. He wanted to make her so crazy with lust that she would come back for more. There would be no lying to himself about being equally enamored.

"Mmmm," he sighed. His thrusts grew erratic the closer he came to his own release. And with each thrust as he buried himself inside her tight quim, he strove to reach his climax, belatedly realizing that no other woman would ever feel this right. "Yesssss,"

He ground into her, pumping his seed deep in her womb, dropping his head on her shoulder as he panted. He rested there for a moment and Hermione did not move. He was so fucked. He couldn't allow her to escape him now or ever. He would have to let her in, get her close, and sabotage any and all attempts to travel back to her own time. With time, she would see that he was what she needed. His body, his lifestyle, his magic. He would make her a fucking queen.

Minutes later, he pulled out of her and had his wand in hand, cleaning both of them up.

"Your question?" He asked looking up and meeting her eyes for the first time. Her mind was frazzled and was replaying their encounter over and over. It was long enough for him to sink inside and move past the glorious haze of their sexual encounter. And he saw it all. The Horcruxes, his rebirth, his downfall, Harry Potter, whoever he was, and Ronald Fucking Weasley, the object of her current infatuation. That would never do! He never did like any of the Weasleys anyway. It was a good thing because the whole line was going to burn.

"Have you made your first Horcrux yet?" She asked.

His deeply indrawn breath was so that he could take a moment, retreat from her mind, and collect his thoughts. He needed more. More information, more sex, just more.

"How?"

"Answer,"

"No, I haven't. How do you know I was planning on making one? Not even my closest _friends_ know of that." True. And now he would probably never make one. There must be other ways for a man of his caliber to ensure immortality.

"Don't make any. If you do…" She stopped. Say it, he thought. He moved close, hands back on her hips, body pressed flush against hers again. She wanted to save him, fix him, he could tell. But she already has. She had been changing him since the very first time he saw her when she acted repulsed by his mere presence. And it was surely an act because if she were truly repulsed, she wouldn't be here now, pressed against the stone wall, getting fucked by him.

"If I do, what, Hermione?" He muttered into her ear, low, dangerous. She shivered and unconsciously arched her neck to force his lips back on her skin. He would be happy to oblige. Later. When she admitted that she was his.

"If you do," She breathed. "if you do, you will die."

He laughed. "I think not!" He pushed away from her smiling, tucking himself back into his trousers and buttoning up his oxford. He knew enough from her memories that he could avoid the pitfalls of his own making. It was already proven that more than one Horcrux was unstable. One could potentially still be made. Although he would exhaust every other avenue first.

"Fine," She snapped. "Don't believe me! What do I know anyway? Release me from this stupid mistletoe."

He cupped her face and tilted her face up and chuckled when she wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Perhaps you are worth listening to, time traveler," he murmured before capturing her lips, using his tongue to tease them apart and sweep in. She was beguiling and tasted like the most intoxicating blend of sex and magic. Her tongue caressed his and he deepened the kiss, sucking her into his mouth.

Tearing his lips from hers, he watched as she lifted a hand to her own. She looked gorgeous and wild, like a thunderstorm. Her amber eyes looked both sated and hungry and he hoped their encounter was good enough for her that the next time they met in the dead of night, she would want him just as much as he wanted more of her.

"What are you going to do to me?" she whispered.

"Do to you?" He asked walking backward away from her, smiling broadly. He was going to shag her as often as possible. Then he was going to nurture the dark side of her and bring her on board. "I'm not going to _do_ anything to hurt you. What I want from you…" he trailed off and paused. "Good night, Hermione."

Seconds later he was gone, having turned the corner. He leaned against the stone wall, listening to her collecting herself. He smiled broadly in triumph. She was caught in his thrall just as surely as he was in hers.

When her footsteps faded away, he was still standing there smiling, glad of his foresight to enchant the mistletoe into capturing Hermione Granger.


End file.
